My first blog ended up with me sharing a little more than I wanted, thoughts that normally one would write in a journal of some sort rather than a blog that may be potentially read by conspiracy theorists, hippies, the feds, and maybe even the Mexican drug cartel.
So I decided to keep the title the same, only it's revisited and this time, I'm going to blog more about things that I don't mind discussing about and without fear of consequence. To start, I'm going to discuss about my recent experience to the local KFC.
I like fried chicken. Blame it on my southern upbringing. I have cravings for it occasionally. It's the skin and breading. They could just serve fried chicken skin and that's what I would order. For now, I'll just have to settle for their popcorn chicken. Lots of breading and hardly any meat. I don't care for the original recipe. Give me the extra crispy version anyday. Its greasy, crispy and much like all things bad for you, it's delicious. But what's with the KFCs in my area? They're all either kinda filthy inside or the employees just don't seem to care. Is depression actually one of their job requirements? Take the Manhattan location in midtown. On the two occasions that I have been there, the fried chicken seem to have more energy and life than the employees who work there. Yeah, smelling like chicken all day can't be all that fun. So what's the secret to Chick-fil-A?
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